


when the night brings no rest (we can be restless together)

by Damned_Writers



Series: the long road home [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Character Analysis, Friendships I want to see more of, Gen, Insomnia, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tea Is Prescribed, half-confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damned_Writers/pseuds/Damned_Writers
Summary: Deep Space Nine is too quiet and too empty. Kira finds herself wandering about at night, missing things she shouldn't miss, and finds an unlikely companion to share the loneliness with.Part one of the long road home: A series exploring the lives of Julian, Kira, and Garak after the end of the Dominion War. The fics can be read as one shots, or together.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Kira Nerys
Series: the long road home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744279
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	when the night brings no rest (we can be restless together)

Year: 2375

_____________________

  
  
The thrum of the station was, at least, familiar and calming, even if everything else these days seemed to just want to remind her that everything had changed irrevocably. No Benjamin, no O'Briens, Odo, Worf... Rom and Leeta were on Ferenginar, Nog was off to explore the galaxy as a first officer, Kasidy and Jake had left the station, and - she realised properly for the first time - no Jadzia. Maybe she was noticing the lack of her more because right about now would be the time she'd ask Jadzia for something distracting and fun to do. Or maybe now was just the first time the silence really let her consider the fact that Jadzia was dead.

Kira did like Ezri, but it was different to how it had been with Jadzia, more protective. She felt like she'd just be using her if she sought her out just to mine whatever little pieces of Jadzia she could glean. No. Being with her right now would just exacerbate her loneliness, and it _was_ loneliness she admitted to herself. And who else could she go to? Quark reminded her too much of Odo to present himself as a good conversation partner, and she'd rather not talk about any of this with someone she habitually threatened with arrest.

Which left the other soul on Deep Space Nine that wasn't sleeping. She'd discovered that Dr. Bashir was suffering from insomnia as well when one of her restless rounds of the station had led her past the infirmary, where he'd been hunched up in a chair studying test-results. It was almost comical, how his long legs managed to fit themselves into such a small space, like a childish need to be wrapped up in oneself that she found she longed to indulge in these days.

That time she'd simply continued to walk, arguing with herself that he probably had some important work to do and didn't need to be disturbed, and besides, what was there to talk about? That she couldn't sleep? That when she did she had nightmares? Not a surprise, after everything that had happened, wow, Kira Nerys is a mess, what a turn of events... She also didn't want to share how many of those dreams were somehow mixed up with her childhood. Ten-year-old Nerys facing down Jem'Hadar, while she cried for her mother somewhere in the distance or Founders changing into people who'd died in front of her, friends and foes alike, Cardassians turning into her parents, into lovers, into Vorta, into Odo, into Dukat, into Jadzia...

She thought she was past all of the kid-stuff at least, but apparently she really _was_ that weak... No, there was no need to go to the doctor with her problems. He'd just prescribe her something and use his Worried, Professional Voice.

Still, she found herself walking past the infirmary every night the following week, and he'd always be there like he hadn't moved since the night before. It comforted her, oddly enough, to see she wasn't the only one who was staying up. She even made a couple of excuses to find herself there during the day, but he was always unfailingly chipper and talkative then, as if he was getting however many hours an augment needed a night. More than what he was sleeping, for sure. He didn't mention whether he noticed her nightly walks, so she assumed he hadn't seen her and didn't say anything either.

More often than not she just ended up praying in the temple until the early morning and sneak out before the Vedeks arrived, like a naughty child hiding somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. For once the prayers weren't helping at all.

*********

It wasn't until two weeks in, when the thought about Jadzia really hit her, that she found herself stopping at his door without having made any conscious decision to do so. Bashir turned as she did and then jumped out of his chair like a spring had been activated- “colonel, can I offer you a tea?”

She hesitated, feeling strangely formal, despite having known him for more than seven years now. “I don't want to intrude, if you want to be alone-”

“No!” He almost yelled, then seemed to realise that he had been too loud and repeated, softer: “No, I'm sorry for not inviting you in sooner. I wasn't sure if you wanted to, um, come in or not, so I thought I'd wait until you took the initiative, but please. Stay.”

Kira smiled, more at ease already. “That tea would be good then,” she said.

As he replicated it, she meandered to his work station. “Anything interesting to keep you up night after night?”

He turned to her with two teas and a sheepish expression on his face. “Actually, no. Just going back to old unsolvable problems, it calms me down, when I'm... well.” He handed her the tea and she sipped it, happy for some warmth.

She nodded. “I keep asking for more to do. Unfortunately being the person who oversees the station seems to mean a lot more “seeing other people do” than “doing it yourself.”” She grimaced. “Wonder how Benjamin didn't go crazy all the time.”

“ _Right?”_ he laughed. _“_ I hate having to wait around and even when something happens it's just broken bones and accidental electrocutions, and the occasional bar-fight. Almost makes you wish for-” he stopped himself, joviality dissipated.

“Wish for the war?” finished Kira.

He looked at her with surprise and she noticed how his face became seven years younger again. It made her realise that he had grown so much older since the day she'd berated him about frontier medicine. It was still boyish, yes, but so, so tired. For a second there she'd spied the Bashir who would capably babble on for minutes without noticing that she was praying to the Prophets for an emergency to free her.

She missed that Bashir. And she'd been selfish to think that he would be distant with her if she came to him. Knowing now that he had experienced more than his fair share of pain in childhood and that it hadn't stifled some innate passion and sweetness in him, but the war... somewhere along the way it had muted him and she hadn't had the time or the wherewithal to notice.

After a moment's silence he gave a soft nod, like he was ashamed, then quickly launched into the safety of words. “I understand, logically, the mind gets used to a certain state of affairs, even if they're traumatic in nature, and after it all ends the brain keeps expecting something to happen even when you know it won't, so anxiety and insomnia are natural, but I just wasn't prepared for... it's so _quiet._ Everyone's gone.”

Again, a flash of that... that childish need to understand, to make it make sense. Kira had had that, but not for long and never like him – she'd been raised with the knowledge that at any moment something senseless and violent could and likely would happen. Then again, she had the Prophets and he had nothing like that. And he wasn't a child. He'd seen senseless violence, but he still tried to fit it into some internal system without the guidance of an innate link to an external force. He was strong in still seeking to understand, even when there was no way he possibly could. She wondered if it was something that came with the augmentation or some part of him that the augmentation hadn't been able to excise. The latter, she felt instinctively.

“I know,” she said. “I had it before, when the Cardassian occupation ended. But it was... different as well. I was so angry all the time then and I didn't know why. And then the Dominion war came and I was almost _relieved._ I knew what to do with that anger. I didn't need to think about the past any more. Even when it all got messy, with the Cardassians joining the Dominion, then Damarr and the uprising, helping Garak, all the questions that came with that were better than nothing happening.”

She noticed Bashir had looked away at Garak's name, expression closing down, and something clicked into place suddenly. “You miss him.”

“Who? Garak?” He was bad at nonchalance and he clearly knew it, but ploughed on nonetheless, tone flat. “He's where he's supposed to be. It's what he always wanted and I'm happy for him.”

“And you're with Ezri,” she added, helpfully.

Bashir crumbled like the pastry of a Hasperat. “I- actually no, you didn't... hear? I thought she'd told you- but it doesn't matter, because it's not the same- that's not- we never- anyway it doesn't matter, because he's gone to Cardassia, which is better for him, he always wanted- and he never said, so nothing would've happened anyway- . And Ezri and I... it wasn't the right thing.” He grimaced. “Another one of those things that makes more sense when you think you're going to die any moment and just want to feel something.”

“Surprisingly introspective of you doctor,” Kira smiled, wondering when the best time to needle him about Garak would be. Not tonight anyway, but she filed it away for future sleepless trips to the doctor's office. Her smile then morphed into one of concern. She really had been avoiding Ezri, hadn't she? So caught up in her own issues and assuming that she had Bashir to talk to, that she hadn't even thought to ask her for lunch once in awhile. She'd make it up tomorrow. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, it was a mutual-decision thing. Promise I didn't leave her heart-broken.” His brief rakish smile was cut short. “...how'd you deal with it? Last time?”

“I didn't, to tell you the truth. I just waited until the next disaster came along. I'm... not.” She almost told him about the dreams, but she couldn't. Not tonight. “But I... I'm less angry now, than I was.” She exhaled deeply. “I used to hate Cardassians because it was easy, then when that wasn't easy any more, I hated the Founders, then when they turned out to be changelings, I hated Dukat... well, that was always easy, but less helpful over time. Like hating him meant he still had some power over me... not hating Dukat is... I'm working on it.”

“So what _did_ help?”

“... honestly? It was all of you. It reminded me why I fought in the first place. Not out of hate, but to protect everything and everyone that I cared about. And then...”

“And then everyone we care about scatters to the four winds.”

“The four winds?”

“On earth there are four directions. North, east, south, west. It means that they've gone in as many different directions as they can and that it'd be basically impossible to gather them all together again. Of course there's another saying that eventually all roads meet up again,” he added, almost to himself. “So let's hope.”

“In Bajoran we say different skies, same Prophets. It was something we started during the Occupation. A reminder that we're still one people, no matter which... winds we're scattered to.”

“I like yours better,” said Bashir, finishing his tea. He stared at his mug with an awkward intensity that told her he was steeling himself to say something more.

“Julian,” she prompted. “What is it?”

“Nothing, really, just... if you want to... I've found... this is nice. And since you were talking about people you care about, I care about you, Nerys.” At the last part he looked up at her again, startlingly sincere. “And it might be good to have tea more often, to remind us that we're not alone in this.”

“Is that your professional prescription, doctor,” grinned Kira. “Tea and talks?”

“I can make it doctor's orders, if it'd make you more likely to stop by rather than walk past,” he returned the grin.

“Can't argue with that then. Another cup? The night's still young.”

“Coming right up.”

\----- The End ------

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this one's probably set in the same verse as the language of change. Mainly my hcs about what I want to happen post-show are just A Very Specific Story, rather than various imaginings. Maybe I'll eventually have enough one-shots for a chaptered fic, who knows.
> 
> EDIT: I am now ordering these into a series


End file.
